I heard about ElectionQlips, a new blog designed to give more of an interactive approach to all this pre-election stuff. The best part that I can see is the multimedia approach. A person can comment in text, in audio or video clips, or upload their graphic responses. Just goes to show, doesn't it, that the Net is getting better and better at reaching out to people with all sorts of talents and abilities, unifying them around specific topics so that we can all learn from one another. Just because you may not agree with someone else's point of view doesn't invalidate it, and someone else may have points that open yours up to new thoughts.
Press Release:
QlipMedia (http://www.qlipmedia.com) has just launched the public beta version of ElectionQlips (http://www.electionqlips.com), a new destination to discuss all that is Election 2008. Readers can share their comments with the community and leave comments on Presidential Election themed video posts using their recorded voice, free-hand drawing, and images to let everyone know what they think and how they feel about every point in the posted debates, ads, punditry and stump speeches.

As the nation’s attention increasingly focuses on the outcomes of the ongoing primary elections and the general election to follow this November, viewers of ElectionQlips can stayed tuned to all the exciting action, including voice and video comments of their fellow citizens. And anyone can bring their wit and wisdom to bear on the debate of the moment, commenting to their heart’s content with their own voice and images.

The blogosphere has always been about giving a voice to common ‘netizens’, while democratizing the dissemination of the news and opinion. But heretofore that voice has been confined to the two dimensional world of the written word. The broad appeal of video has added a third dimension, a layer of contextual relevancy just not possible with the written word alone. Blog commenting has been similarly constrained by the same technical barriers. ElectionQlips brings multimedia blogging full circle, giving blog commenters the ability to post live, multimedia comments right on the videos they’re viewing in their own voice, using their own doodles and images.

• 100+ million blogs in existence
• 1.5 million blog posts per day
• 1 blog with multimedia commenting capability

ElectionQlips users can take their election debate with them by sharing the link and embedding the player anywhere. On the video timeline, it’s easy to bring out all the facts with every detail of the debate through point-by-point analysis. The density of comments at every point let’s one see what’s hot and what’s not in every debate.

The goal of ElectionQlips is to make it possible for everyone to participate in any debate, discussion and controversy using their own voice. Commenting on blog posts is a common enough, ElectionQlips gives an edge over other contemporary election blogs, especially with respect to sharing your comments and opinions.

About QlipMedia:
QlipMedia makes QlipBoard, a tool that combines videos and images with drawing, highlighting and adds your voice is the easiest way to talk about anything and turn any video into an instant discussion room. ElectionQlips is produced by QlipMedia, Inc. and designed by OuterJoin. For more information, visit www.qlipmedia.com

You know, as a parent you spend so much time wondering if you're doing the right thing, so much time second-guessing yourself, and then you just have to keep on keeping on. Case in point: my daughter. Her early days were fraught with uncertainty for all of us. (Wow! I just used fraught! In an actual sentence!) Between feeds, reflux, development, and my own little issues, it was so easy to get lost in a cycle of never ending anxiety. I took every hour as it came, every day and every night, and it all sort of blended together in one big massive balancing act of laundry and doctor appointments. Now I'm inching my way closer to bringing a second child home with similar issues, and what the hell am I thinking?

Socks. Tiny little socks. Great big socks. I'm thinking about socks this morning, and bananas (you don't want to ask. Trust me on this one.) and I'm thinking about that call last night which is reminding me gently to get off my ass and do some more of this getting ready business.

See, they moved my Robbie again. For a micro preemie who hasn't gotten the hang of nipple-feeding reliably yet, this kid sure gets around a lot! He's now about 3 miles from me, in the local hospital, in a satellite NICU that has two beds. That's how small it is. This is the last move before his homecoming, and I'm thinking that it's definitely not too far away now because he just moved over the 4 pound mark.

Yep, that's right. Four pounds. Still less weight than a sack of flour, but that's cool because I haven't done those strength exercises I've been meaning to get to and this means I can use my baby for weightlifting. You think I'm joking? I did it with my Toddler when she was that small; it was a great bonding experience to get down and do a few leg lifts and knee lifts while bonding with the baby. Nothing too strenuous, but it was a lot of fun.

My little boy is coming home real soon now. Eep. I think I'm ready. Really ready this time. Stay tuned for the “what the hell was I thinking, bringing another preemie into my life, but he's so adorable” post. Probably around April.

I was looking into new ways to help promote my work (blogging, the e-books, etc) and came across Buzzfuse. The way it works is as I understand it, is a group-sharing and expanding format. They use the word “viral marketing”, but it does not have a virus that can harm your stuff (or your friend's stuff). First thing is to register for free. Part of that process is to add contacts. You can easily send an automated invite to everyone on your contact list, or target the people who might want this the most. Again, that's free. After that you add a piece of content, like a blogpost you've done that seems pretty nice. This item is then sent out to everyone else on your contact list, as a “hey, check this out” thing. They check it out, and maybe they'll agree that it's cool enough to send on to their contact list. And so on, and so on, and before you know it that one post will hit a whole lot more people than you know personally. It would inspire someone like me to make my writing better and better so that those new readers decide to hang around. New traffic, new regular readers, and who knows where that could lead one day? I'm willing to give it a shot. Couldn't hurt, right?

This morning I woke up listening to legos bang together and thanked God for a gray sunrise. There are a few benefits to having these dull, gray, peasoup fog mornings, and one of them is that it convinces my daughter that it is earlier than it really is. Today that meant that I was able to close my eyes again and bury my face in the pillow for a few more minutes. Just a few minutes. That's not too much to ask, is it, and those extra minutes can mean the difference between being forced to consciousness and a foul mood for the next twenty hours or a slow rise to acceptance that yes, I have to open my eyes and tend to my family.

I do love them. That is why I accept the forced waking when it's needed. That is also why I have yet to run away from home.

Sunday night on my way out of the NICU I had a flashback to college days. I remembered what it was like to walk outside just after sunset in chilly wet weather, walking from building to building and climbing endless half-flights of concrete steps under equally chilly flourescent lighting. The ground is wet in the manner of springtime; petunias still survive in their flowerbeds and the rain is keeping everything just ready to explode with new growth. In another week I'm going to be hearing lawn mowers everywhere we go, and smelling that heavenly aroma of newly clipped grass.

It will be February, and seem like May in the small Eastern town where I grew up. Late April, even, but surely not the middle of winter. I'm experiencing seasons again after three years in Paradise and although I surely do miss that land of no real climate and timeless season I'm learning to accept the slow progression of time again. The land wakes up, is moist, grows. The mowers come, new sounds and smells. Summer lands hard on our heads with an equally endless time of oven-like heat as we're all baked dry and dream of water. Fall brings cooler nights and our thanks. Winter comes again with rain and fog and slow gray mornings.

Once again let me thank everybody who's been adding their clicks to the Goldfish Fund. It does make a difference, and I've been sleeping a little easier by knowing it's there. I promise to come up with something really whitty and funny later on, just as soon as I get Toddler lunched, changed, wiped, and decongested. Toddler-sized colds? Not horribly awful, but very sticky. And if you don't stay on top of a small, glazed, human child, they make an awful lot of laundry that doesn't have to happen.

I have a picture of another weekend in my head while I'm writing this. I'm dreaming of a weekend when the household isn't sick, where my Toddler is the bright-eyed hellraiser that I know she can be, when there's giggling and laughing going on all over the place.

Not this hushed quiet.

Since my mom and the Toddler both have this sickness I know it's a matter of hours/days before I get it too. I will write "return to sender" on the front with a large sharpie and that should be the end of it, right? The Boy is taking a well-deserved nap right now and then I get to drive into the city to take frozen breastmilk to my Robbie. Should I stay home? It's likely. Likely that I may be carrying some germ that will survive the scrubbing in procedure at the NICU, that I might deliver it unsuspecting to my precious baby laying there.

Is that risk worth taking so that he can have the breastmilk, as he is currently on the high-strength formula that is making him gassy, constipated, and miserable, and if I don't take it today I'm not going to have the window of opportunity to take it in until next weekend? I'd rather run that slight risk to make his known discomfort less.

But please, universe, I want to go do the milk run now while the Toddler is blessedly asleep. So that I can return to find her just waking up, or eating dinner, and so that I can sit up with her fevered little body while she settles off to sleep for the night.

Another sleepless night, tossing and turning and dropping off to sleep only to wake in a cold sweat from larger-than-life dream sequences. Have I been to the doctor yet? No. Should I get up off the butt and get the call made and go? Uh-huh. Can I summon the ability to do this yet?

It occurs to me that if I did get around to starting that serial novel like I've been promising myself I'd do, that it would provide a reasonable outlet for my drama needs right now. That pesky BPD diagnosis is pushing me for High Drama right now, and I don't want to be bothered with it. -Hey, that's actually pretty healthy of me! Way to go, me! When my subconscious starts acting like this, with the acting out in my dreams every night and somewhat in my imagination during the day, I've got to find a way to let it go before it spills over. Whether or not that's going to be in the therapists' office this time or on the Net, I don't know yet. Maybe I'll turn to my blogging for more cheap therapy.

One of the high points to having been so thoroughly therapied for so many years of my early adulthood is that I know that my particular flavor of PTSD responds well to the constant rehashing. For that I don't need to necessarily share it with the world, as long as I get it done in a safe environment. These days I can quite nicely get the work done wrapped up in a quilt with my knitting needles. And that need for high drama? Let's explore that some more from a different angle.

I can step back and look at the life changes we're going through right now. Micro preemie at the end of a highrisk pregnancy, emergency delivery, special needs toddler and special needs infant coming to join the circus, adjusting to having the family complete at this point. Those are pretty big changes. Some of them are fairly high drama all by themselves. Do I really need to upgrade that drama? Would it not be better to take that step back with a hot cup of tea and reassess my reactions?

At this point I've reached the following conclusions, subject to change at any moment. Keep looking on the upside. I already try to do this on a daily basis. Let's just make it official now. Fix firmly in my mind that this will not be forever, that the entire next year will just be an arbitary timespan that has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Before I know it both of my babies will catch up to their full term counterparts, and they will hit their teen years and want nothing to do with me at all. Maybe then I'll catch up on that elusive sleep. When I feel myself spinning out of control, take a breath. The Boy will appreciate a calm reaction because Lord knows he's going through a mess of the same depressive thoughts himself. Let's not add to his burdens with concerns about my stability when he could be concerned about his children (normal, and laudable to be concerned with his children. Not necessary to make him walk on eggshells for the mother of those children who provides their daily care.)

My Robbie is in the neighborhood of 1565 grams at the moment. 3 pounds, 7 and 3/4 ounces. He comes home at just about 1800 grams. That means that at the rate he's been going we're looking at a come-home date of days from now. It's not in the mythical realm of "eventually around his due date". His due date of Feb 11, which come to think of it is not that far off either.

The Toddler seems to have no concept that this is going to change her world forever. We don't know what she understands, even though she "speaks" of Robbie while going through her books and toys. She knows that Mommy pumps for Robbie, that certain changes to the old routine are for "Robbie", and beyond that? Who knows.

I'm not overly concerned at this point. Robbie looks like a Real Live Boy right now, except that he's really small and tiny compared to full term babies, and when I look at them I wonder how anyone could handle a baby that large as a newborn? My reality is warped by my two tiny babies; as I said often through my pregnancy I wouldn't know what to do with a baby larger than 5 pounds. I know how to handle a preemie, extra floppy with low or practically non-existant muscle tone. I know how to shoot the medicine into their mouths so they swallow it instead of choking. I know how to deal with the endless comments on how small my child is... some days more gracefully than other days.

Let's just keep on keeping on. Keep faith. Serenity Now.

Toddler who doesn't want to nap. Add a long day and you have the screamfest that started out as bedtime and ended up as a half-hour event whereupon the sobbing toddler tried to tell mommy that she didn't want to go to sleep.

I feel like such a lousy parent when I have to enforce bedtime when she's still crying. The more so because whatever words she has are forgotten in her distress. We're back to the communication of infancy. Is she thirsty? Hungry? Gassy? Is she afraid of something in the dark room or is she just too tired to remember how to sleep? Does her head hurt? Is it something else? Too hot, too cold? If she would be able to let me know this... it would be so much easier for both of us.

I'm earning my sleep tonight. Can I hope that tomorrow will mean more milk in the freezer for my little boy so far away from me? I'm starting to get so hungry again. The hunger cycle seems to come and go spiking slight increases in supply.

Yet another post about my boobs has been brought to you tonight by One Tired Mama. While I got away with relatively light toddler wrangling, I cooperated with the Boy and got a massive amount of paperwork and scheduling done. We're getting closer to D-day. Delivery. The Small Boy will come home.

Three pounds, three ounces. Today we settled down in the rocking chair for kangaroo care. The nurse positioned Robbie on my chest and drew the privacy screens close. Immediately he started fussing. Arching his back, throwing his head around. If his lungs were capable of it he'd have screamed to bring the house down. I figured out what he wanted.

I laid him down flat on my inner arm, cradling his head by my elbow. He opened his eyes wide, looking all around for the circus. Poor child, there was no circus. No party, no balloons, no elephants or clowns. Just his mama and his Gram. He still had to check though. After several minutes of looking for them Robbie figured out that they weren't coming. He closed his eyes again and let me position him back up on my chest where he fell asleep.

While I was gone his sister ran around the house. She poured rice from her sensory table into my shoes and destroyed one of my tapes. She tried to ignore me completely for the next two hours. Remember when I used to call her a little puppy?

Some things, I'm afraid, are just a natural for young mammals. At bedtime she brought her milk to me and climbed into my lap with her blanket. We snuggled. We cuddled. Then Mommy tucked her in and kissed her goodnight.

My two babies are sleeping now. I'm all relaxed again, with a cup of tea and a belly full of pizza, icecream, and the promise of midnight chocolate. That hopeless feeling I had the other night? Gone for now. The little newborn on my chest, fingers not much bigger than a mini birthday candle, his face pressed against my skin. That's why I'm driving myself nuts with this pumping. This is why I'm doing all this to keep whatever milk I have left coming. For him. Because this will help him continue to thrive, will lessen his reflux, will strengthen his immune system. Sure, it might save some pennies as well. As long as that's still secondary to all the other benefits.

One of the neat things that happens in a slowing economy, when people are being more careful in how they spend their money, is that lenders have to compete more for business. If, for example, you are looking at a Florida Refinance of your home, you can visit a website that brings multiple lenders together to offer you a bunch of different offers. One stop shopping with the benefit of your fuzzy bunny slippers. You don't have to call each one individually and listen to fasttalking customer service reps trying every verbal trick to get you talked into signing with them. I like the online method; it takes so much emotion out of a transaction. I can look at stuff objectively with the criteria that I choose foremost in my mind. So easy to be sweet-talked into options that really don't apply to your situation. And if my experience is only with car insurance which can be easily changed twice a year, think how much more important it is to get exactly what you're looking for when refinancing your home!

I wonder why I'm still depressed, and then I go to pump. I just spent the past hour pumping, one side at a time so that I could collect the milk in the same graduated nurser bottle. I like doing it in those, because the shape is narrow and makes my output look more than it is.

One hour, for 10ml.

Are there mothers out there who know how that makes me feel right now? I try and I try and I'm getting up twice a night all this past week because our schedule this past week has me going sometimes four hours between pumping. For what? 10ml. Oh, sure, this morning I got 18ml in a bottle. That's not making me feel much better. I know this is the best thing for my boy and I can't convince my body to give up the milk. He's probably getting two days of breastmilk a week now before they need to break out the formula again. I know it won't hurt him- he'll thrive on it like my girl thrived on her formula. You remember, the $15/12.8 oz can formula?

I don't know if this is the point at which I'm going to hang up the pumping horns.

I want to cry it out, but I don't think I should give in to it because I start being afraid that if I start crying tonight I won't stop. We've got to get up early tomorrow. I have to drop the Boy at work, and drive into Fresno to get Robbie's birth certificate. My little boy weighs 3 pounds this week and I want to have the chance to try and nurse him once before I lose my milk completely. I don't even know anymore why this is so damn important to me. I just know that it is, and that this is why I'm so freaked out at losing the supply completely, and I'm going to bed tonight scared and afraid.

I still lay in bed praying for the milk to increase. For one more miracle to happen for us even though I'm sure I've used my lifetime's supply of miracles. I don't deserve any more miracles. I should just be happy that I have two living children and a good marriage that can survive two preemies and my depression.

Tonight it's dark and cold, and I feel more alone than I've felt in months.

This morning started in one of my favorite ways. The Toddler has a large rubbermaid tote in her bedroom where we toss her legos and blocks, and when I went in to get her up for the day I found her sitting inside it burying her toes underneath the blocks. What a sight! Then she just had to wear a hat while getting dressed. Why is this? I don't know.

After the getting dressed she snuggled on my lap and ate breakfast. Isn't that a wonderful followup? Smell of cute toddler in the morning, soft warm head nuzzled up under my chin, warm body pressed up as close under my armpit as it was phsyically able to go. When she was finished she wiggled her way down to play. So long, Mom, I love you but you're cramping my style today.

The little one is doing well, he's just over three pounds now. Every day brings us closer to a family of four. Better load that car seat now, just in case. Am I ready? Am I really ready to bring him home? About as ready as any new mother is when her body goes into labor. This homecoming will be sudden, with very little warning, and I've got to get ready for it.

Where other climates get snow, we get rain. Where they get rain, we get fog. And yes, this means that it's foggy outside again. Peasoup fog, of the sort that I only dreamed about whenever I used to read descriptions of London's weather. It's so thick right now that I could cut it, only around an hour past daybreak can I see the tops of the houses just across the street. Earlier I couldn't even see that far.

I'm trying to get my routines in place this morning. A few of them that are designed around helping me get my mind ready for a day. Make the bed. Unload clean dishes from dishwasher and reload with dirty that have been soaking in the sink. Swipe the kitchen floor with a cleaning wipe. Dump the used coffee grounds from the Boy's morning pot. Dish out the Toddler's breakfast as much as possible so it will mean less steps when she finally awakes.

As my mother calls it, “The Robbie Report” is as follows: he now weighs 2 lbs and 10 oz. He is on room air, although it's being fed to him via cannula. This is a good sign. I've also now changed two diapers. Two diapers, in 6 weeks of life. It's reasonable to expect that this is the last time I'll ever be so lucky. Especially as neither of those diapers were dirty ones, they were “only” wet.

How am I doing? Today I decided not to call the doctor, in favor of getting the midmonth bills triaged and written out. Fun. The best part of the month for every household that lives check to check, right? This is the day where you almost have a nice chunk of change in the checking account and have to figure out which bills get paid and how much can be paid on them. After the fiasco with the electric company last summer this is nearly at the painless spot it was at a year ago; there's only one bill left that I am still trying to catch up on. Unfortunately I can't just pay the whole balance off at this point. I wish I could. I really wish I could. Then it wouldn't make my stomach all jittery. Unfortunately, that's not an option right now. So I'll put up with jittery stomach and work on my knitting. Or my blogging. Or staring at my boobs willing them to produce more milk, like, NOW.

Is it not incredible that one minute you can feel so defeated, and the next moment everything comes back into perspective? The world is not a horrible place, and although this winter has been gray and dull and damp more often than not there really will be a whole year full of bright sunny and clear days in front of us.

I don't know why I feel this burst of hope. Underneath the sadness is still a very real and hard load to shoulder. It's the knowing that it won't last forever- I remember that this will not last even though I can't see an ending to it. I know there will be sunshine again even though I don't believe it will ever return. This is one of the reasons I like the spring so much; the ground melts and flowers come back. Grass shoots are brilliant in the mud underneath my feet and new life is whispering that all is not lost. Do not give up hope. There will come a new day for you, for me, and the depression will not be this bleak forever.

I just feel so sad. I don't know why, other than that it's the product of my depression, hiding away in the back of my brain for so many (?) months. I don't count the situational depression, because I've got a fair grip on that. I mean the pervasive sadness depression that just is. It doesn't go anywhere, it just springs up one morning out of nothing and lays a blanket over my emotions and thoughts.

Guess it's time again to call the doctor, to get on some meds that will help lay this sucker down for the next few months/years. I don't want to be on them forever, and indeed it's when I'm going longterm on something that I run the biggest risk of waking up and having them stop working.

My baby? He is still well. My supply? Starting to taper back off. The past three days haven't helped; no chance to pump regularly, no contact with the new baby other than a brief phone call, and I've been stressed by sudden evaluations and the re-emergence of Female Issues that normally don't happen when you're pregnant.

My Toddler? Still cranky. She's tired and this evening we couldn't even try to feed her anything resembling a meal. Too tired to accept anything, including her beloved peanut butter. We ran out of store-bought bread so I baked, and the homemade bread was not the familiar texture or taste so it was flung aside with a wail. By "fling" I really do mean fling. With the violence you'd display if someone shoved a venomous snake in your face. Same with the sippy cup at first. Almost with the poppysicle. I started with the poppysicle then, moving slowly to a piece or two of the peanut butter alone on my fingertip. There were graham crackers in the pantry, so we tried them. Success! Graham crackers for dinner it is! Not long after that she calmed down enough to drink her milk.

Then she went to sleep. And me? I'm sad. So I'm having some water, some bread and butter, and trying to go to bed now. I don't even have much faith that I'll sleep. Is it possible to be too depressed to sleep?

While searching around in my copious (hah!) spare time, I looked into new glasses. My mom's frames broke earlier this summer, resulting in an odd fix with a spare arm off a way-different pair. I'd like to get her a new pair of glasses this spring, as a "thank you" that comes long overdue for everything she's done around here in the past year. Come to think of it, my own glasses could use an upgrade. I've had these since 2004 or so. Remember the superglue incident of my first pregnancy? Great Discovery: www.ZenniOptical.com which offers glasses very cheaply. They can do it because they only offer the frames that they manufacture. I don't care who makes my frames as long as the price is right.

Have you heard the news story about how phone companies have ended wiretaps not because of faulty warrant info but because the FBI didn't pay the bill? I mean, they can tap anyone they feel like (apparantly) but if they're late on the bill it's a case of "no tap for you!"

There is just much political stuff out there. What happened to the days when I could bury my head in the sand and be blissfully unaware of current events? I want those days back. I want my ignorance back! But no... I found that it's a lot easier to keep mildly aware of these things. I get the email daily digest from two papers, and even though I don't always have the time to read them it does take less room than two daily papers. I browse the headlines, I read the articles when I have the chance. If something annoys me I can fake ignorance of it for a while. If something strikes my interest I can keep current on it.

It's like the church issues that we're getting mailings on every Sunday. Our diocese broke away from the main church -I think, because I'm deliberately keeping fuzzy on it- and the church I go to did not break away, and now we're in some sort of limbo land. South America is involved at one portion. It was brought up at meetings, and church councils, and surveys and letters came out and there was a vote. Or several votes. And my position continues to be that I do not want to know. What the heck is wrong with wanting to just go to church every week? I do not want to get involved with beaucracy and church politics. I just want to attend in peace and be mostly left alone. I realize that attitude brings it's own set of responsibilities; that I give up my right to complain about future paths this church will take or how money gets distributed, and all of that- I can accept that. Just leave me alone to keep my head in the sand.

Now that the Boy has his license, we're one step closer to eventually getting a second car. But where to start? He says we'll just get a clunker that can get him from one point to another; I think we should get a car big enough to carry the two kids plus their gear plus a passenger or two. Yeah- me, a soccer mom with minivan and two kids? We've even got a fence around the backyard here. Bring on the station wagon!

One place to explore car leasing is a site that lets you search by various options. Stuck on a certain make or model? Search by that. My favorite is to search by budget. If you know you're limited by what you can afford, don't even let yourself see those options when you're doing serious shopping. If you don't see it, you don't get tempted to sign for a car you can't afford. And wouldn't it be really neat to have a car show up at your house, delivered? Ah. The benefit of the Net. To be able to do so much from the comfort of the fuzzy bunny slippers.

Where does all this guilt come from? Lately I feel so off, like there's more I should be doing. I want to keep the house spotless, be totally involved with the Toddler, and drive up to see the baby eight hours a day. I can't; it's physically impossible to do and be all these things at the same time. It's driving me nutty.

About the only thing I can do to alleviate all of this is to pump milk for the baby, try to love the Toddler, try to squeeze in a few chores and a load of laundry around the edges. This is where those routines are coming in handy. An added bonus: when it's written down in black and white I know when something is starting to become an unreasonable expectation. For someone with the inability to let stuff go, with the risk factors for a mild case of OCD, this is a blessing.

There's another article in my newspaper about weight loss and gain and the struggle that much of the population is struggling with. So many people don't know what is really healthy for them. Our perceptions continue to be slightly warped by our own reality. Advertisements, tv, magazines, the skinny neighbor who should wear more clothes before she gets pneumonia... all these things contribute to not knowing. Then you add in the food pyramid and fad diets, weight loss experts, diet pills. Who knows? Some things work, a lot don't work, some work some of the time and then stop leaving you with rebound pounds. And then there are the people who just can't lose the weight that they need to lose for health reasons. They suffer from so many issues and no amount of dieting or exercise is helping. If you've absolutely got to lose that weight and keep it off and nothing else works, consider a lapband procedure. It's reversible, unlike stomach stapling or procedures that alter the physical structure of your insides. Sometimes you just have to go with what works for you.

My Robbie was transferred across town earlier this week, and ever since I've been fighting the depression again. I don't know just why; the move wasn't bad, as such. It was good. It means that he's stable enough to be transferred to an equal care-level facility due to need for his space in the feeder/grower unit. I would say "bed space", but technically that's not true. He was not moved from the bed. The bed went with him. The transit made him fussy and cranky. He lost two ounces. Which is not a huge thing for a lot of kids, but when he started out so small this is really a big deal. I'm stressing over gas prices again. In specific, gas prices as they relate to the increased driving, having to visit my boy in the NICU on weekends, not having much of a choice about that whole issue...

Plus we're getting sick. The Boy already is sick. My mom's fighting it, I'm ignoring it, and the Toddler appears to be unaffected so far. We'll see how long that really lasts.

The second to last job I had before staying home to be a mother was over in Torrey Pines. It's a place famous (or infamous, depending on who you ask) for golfing. I must admit that I'm far more into the miniature golf game than the "real" golf. At least I used to be. Lately I'm starting to really come to terms with the features that draw people to fight over getting the best golf tee times. Part of it is the skill. There's something almost magical about being able to take a breath, center yourself, and make the little ball go from here to there and land as close as possible to the goal. Meditative, even. It makes me feel a yearning for this game as a good way to reclaim my own peace. In the middle of the busy day, when toddlers are screaming and newborns need tending and constant vigilance, where does a parent find their calm? I know it's easy enough to lose that calmness, but how do we find them again? And once you take up a hobby that allows you to have that, isn't it only normal to need the appropriate gear to go along with it? American Golf is a great site to visit to find out the courses near you, to give the gift of a game to a friend, or to find accessories.

Yesterday in class the Toddler played with markers, leading to a close encounter of the purple kind. It is moments like this that lead us to fully comprehend her habit of brushing her right hand back from her nose and around her ear, not caring which item is currently in that hand or what kind of mess will be created. This is the behavior that leads to a peanut butter facial every evening. This is the sort of thing.

I love my little girl, never more so than when she's doubled over with laughter. And if her nose is purple? So what? There's soap in the house. Or it will eventually wear off. She's two. This is a normal thing. So be it.

It's no use crying over spilled milk.

Last night I pumped a fairly decent amount. Got up to put the milk away; I had enough in that little bottle for one more addition to the freezer stash. I don't freeze it until I have half an ounce in the bottle, because it looks so depressingly small at anything less than that. I mean, if it doesn't cover the bottom of the bottle by more than a few drops, what's the point? It'll melt in the car on the way up to Children's, no matter how much ice I pack around it.

So I was standing up from the chair and my balance slipped a little and I dropped the bottle. The lid was not on. The milk went down, sideways, got my skirt wet and a little of the chair.

When I think of all the work it takes to get that much out (just about a quarter ounce, which is slightly more than a teaspoon for those of you who need a comparison to fully feel my pain) I could have cried. I mean, really. I sit there with the pump for about half an hour on both sides just to produce enough drops to make that. And then I lose it all. It's a very sad thing.

Either I was feeling relaxed at the time, or I've been learning to let go of my supply issues. When this happened I was able to instantly shrug it off. This morning I'm feeling the pain of it though. This morning I'm really noticing how much that was in the larger scheme of things.

Did you ever wonder to yourself how you ended up living out bizarre cartoon sequences? During a failed attempt at naptime, my daughter smacked me in the head repeatedly with a small yellow duck. The first time it was accidental. The remainder of the time it was to hear the squeak.

If you like this story, support this site through learning more about one of our featured products found on the lovely sidebar. Who knows? It may save me from the Duck.

More stories will be forthcoming if this child ever eats her dinner and goes to sleep.

This is a day to organize. To plan ahead. To do... something. I forget.

Do you ever have those sorts of days? They start with good intentions but go downhill so incredibly fast. I maybe should be asking is there anyone who does not have those sorts of days. It seems to me that it's one of the prerequisites to humanity. Especially when you've got little ones who delight in throwing all your careful plans to the wind.

Today I'm flying. So far. For me it comes down to routines and lists. I've always been on the compulsive side. This is directly related to having the inability to ever let anything go. I've worked on it and been in therapy for this, and although some things are easier than others I freely admit that during moments of stress and exhaustion all the old habits come back. Routines help me start and end the day- every night the dishwasher gets run and the sink is empty/nearly empty. Counters are normally cleared and ready to receive a whole new crop of Stuff in the morning. Every morning I sit down and start by checking email over breakfast. It's when these routines fall out of sync that I start losing my brain- and once it's lost it can be several days before I feel back on track with myself. I think it's having those routines that has let me survive motherhood, and it's those routines that will help me do well with having another little teeny one with all the associated doctors, specialists, therapists, and social services involved.

I remember way back when, when the company put out their quarterly meeting videos. It was a big deal for us. We'd all be able to sit in; I could put the phones on automatic (although hardly anyone ever did accept the automated voicemail system). They sent out for lunch. Fabulous. And then there was the video link itself. Movie time! I didn't even mind the blatant corporate imagery, the motivational aspect that was so embedded into it.

Of course not every company does that sort of thing. Some don't go with live video. Some go with animated motivational stuff. These short cartoons teach things like customer service skills in a fun way. Marastar is a company that specializes in these short video cartoons. One of the things that makes them truly special is that they include humor as well as the basic skills and gentle reminders to your staff. If you're the one in charge of planning company-wide meetings and training sessions, consider cartoon humor as a good way to motivate people. It does make an impact. Personally, I felt much more motivated by our quarterly movie and lunch than I did by the coffee mug or service pin. With a little thought behind the planning, you can spark something fresh in your team. This of course has to be based on the people who work for you. If you've got a bunch that can be fired up by a logo on a mug you might want to consider a different sort; the sort who bring a spark of humanity back into the workplace. We've long suspected that drones don't really accomplish much. If you can engage the person, instead of the contracted business services provided by a human-shaped entity who is just there for the paycheck, that's a great first step to making a business that will last longer than 5 or 6 years.

Have you ever had a day where, when you left your toddler with someone so that you could run and do a critically important thing outside the house, they decided to channel a tornado instead of a sweet little cherub? We had such a day. A day that ends with parents returning home and wishing for a moment that they could turn right around and leave again. Let me rephrase that- I can't speak for my husband, the father of this child. I can only say that my first instinct was to turn on my heel and disavow any and all knowledge of this child.

But I do love her, and I am a good parent, and I will admit that I knew something like this was imminent. I picked up the mess and tried to get the rest of the house into something like order. I changed her into a clean nightgown and convinced her to eat part of a half of a peanut butter sandwich. She drank a few sips of chocolate milk. Eventually, she suffered me to hold her and I informed her that she was going to sleep and when she wakes up tomorrow she will turn into a mild-mannered and polite child again.

I wish.

So many things I wish tonight. I wish that she did not have these mild delays and sensory issues, as well as a resistance to napping and resting during the day that leads inevitably to a meltdown of epic proportions. She's going to be three in only a few short months. Isn't she supposed to be talking in sentences now, and potty-training, and doing more to communicate her needs and desires than this incessant eh-eh-eh sound coupled with a smattering of real words? Isn't she supposed to follow directions more consistently than not?

I need to be more grateful for small things. Like, she's not sick. Like, this is a language/communication delay and she's in treatment for it. Like, this is just a really horrible day for us. It will pass.

In the meantime, I think I need a hug.

I held my baby again today, after I found him. This kid really needs to stop moving around, getting out on his own, changing locations without warning me first... See, I arrived at the NICU this evening and innocently went to his room. Instead of the familiar isolette in space "b", there was an open warming crib containing a baby about three times the size of my baby, with a thick mess of black hair. Also, the name tag indicated it was a female baby.

Turns out that Robbie got moved to the feeder/grower unit late yesterday. This is what happens when I miss a daily call over there. Fortunately I found my baby fairly quickly. This is good for all our blood pressures.

He's not quite three pounds after all, despite my hopes and positive thinking. But it's not that far off. I did get to hold him a long time, watching him sleep. That tiny little body held in my arms. He's getting better at holding his body temperature. Granted, we didn't have him outside the isolette for very long, but it was still a very positive thing. He slept most of the time. Was a bit cranky at being moved and semi-woken.

So how was your Saturday? Do anything fun? It's raining here. Again. After not raining for enough months that I thought it would never rain again, it's raining. The ground is turning a brilliant emerald green; beautiful.

A friend of mine, older and diabetic for many years and suffering the foot problems that many diabetics get at this point, went to her doctor the other week and learned that he wants her to start wearing wool socks. 100% wool socks. No elastic, no "fillers". Just wool socks. Something about breathability I guess. Now, I know wool or cotton socks are wonderful things. Personally, I don't go for wool. Cotton, though, makes me drool from time to time. This friend was talking to my mom and wondering where on earth they expected her to find these socks- with no elastic or fillers. Simple, my mom says. Just ask Mary to do it. She knits socks, is currently into knitting socks, and would be happy to do it.

And I am happy, of course. I love the opportunity to sit down and knock out a few more pairs. It's the chance to perfect my technique. Also the excuse to buy new needles. I picked up a set of wood double-points for this project, and the wool, and I have to say that I'm completely sold on the combination of pure wool and wood. A drawback for me in working with socks thus far is that there is inevitably a point at which all my stitches try to escape on a tight corner. The wood needle is "sticky". The wool is also sticky. The two sticky things are making the socks easy to work. Easier to fold into my purse and expect to stay together.

If only the sleep that eludes me could be trapped like this wool on the needles. I could catch it and force it to stay on my brain, and then I would lose a portion of this zombie-like wandering through the rest of the next day. So far this week I'm choosing to look at it as a tailor-made opportunity to pump. I needed to start pumping at night to increase supply. Well, here we are. I'm awake, so I pump. And while I'm pumping, let's work on balancing the breastshield against my bent knee so that I can have both hands free. Then I can keep working on lovely wool socks.

Multitasking. Is there anything a mother can't do, when she's motivated enough?

As y'all know, apart from my previous life as Mary Poppins (professional receptionist, admin, and all-around "fixer" of certain researching things) I trained in library science. Which isn't just a tight-lipped person with wire-rimmed glasses, a tight bun, and the ability to SHUSH people wordlessly. I wanted to go into something like corporate record management, which is a big fancy term for Librarian to the Suits. Technology changes at record speed. These days a corporate librarian almost needs to start with a minimum of a Masters, and loads of extra IT classes. She needs to know what it is, how to fix it, how to categorize it, and how to maximize for the user base she will ultimately support (and all without mussing her hair or wrinkling the suit).
SFTP Server, SSH Server, data, metadata. How do you keep everything going and secure in a world that increasingly demands security? At the same time as demanding access from anyone, anywhere, anytime -as long as they're authorized? It's enough to make someone rip their hair out. I couldn't keep up with it, though I went through school with people who did and who dreamed of this as their highest goal. And even though I fell off-track in the quest for this type of position, I still keep up with things. Maybe it's in my blood at this point? I dream of simplifying my home network and tech responsibility even though it's limited now to just this family. I browse technical journals and sites to keep current on one-stop solutions for businesses- and I wonder often at how soon I can win a lottery to afford one of these to play with. Someday. When the kids are grown and in school and I go for that masters.

So it's another new week. A new year. A new chance to blog about my boobs. Again. And if you feel that this is getting redundant, it's at least as normal as blogging about who has a crush on whom, or who's the latest hollywood celebrity scandal, or who is sleeping with a sheep.

The three seasons of Ballykissangel that the Boy gave me for Christmas have now been watched, some in the middle of the night pumping sessions that I've started to incorporate into our lives, the others with the rest of the family. It's been a challenge, the mid-night pumping. The boobs are grudgingly being convinced to give up more and more drops of milk. I'm still nowhere near to filling those little 4oz bottles, but half an ounce every 2.5 hours is feeling pretty damn good to me. Mostly. It's good, because little Robbie is now out-eating me. He was on formula again yesterday when the Boy and I went up to see him. Perhaps it was the knowledge that we had brought him more milk. Maybe it was something else. He came to us to be held and the first thing he did after opening his eyes and taking a good long look at his daddy was to throw up.

Every baby is different. Every mother is different. Every breastfeeding attempt is going to be different. If I can just keep supply up, if I can just make it last until Robbie comes home, it might turn out well this time. Maybe he'll latch on. I'd really like to make this work. Anything is possible.

It was a remarkable day because the Toddler took a sleeping nap. Without screaming. Sure, I was driving down the highway when she started sleeping, but that happens frequently on those days when she's overtired and is forced to sit without amusement in a nice smooth gently vibrating seat. No, the real challenge comes when the ride is over. When Daddy is home and unbuckles her for the ride into the house. If she's been asleep we carry her in; these days she's not only capable of but encouraged to walk into the house under her own power. Once inside the house if she's been deeply asleep and is still groggy she gets laid down on her bed. Today there was one brief wail of protest. Then... nothing. Not a peep. She was, instead, fast asleep again and took a two and a half hour (almost 3!) nap. Woke up for dinner. Just now went happily and peacefully (and sleepily) to bed at 8.

This is a normal-type bedtime schedule for her age. This is what I aspire to every day of our lives. This is not so normal for us ever, especially so the past month when Mommy's been having a baby and recovering from same, when she's less inclined to get tough with naptime enforcement and has settled for "at least she's pretending to play quietly." Two hours or so of playing in her room more or less quietly without massive destruction while I tried to get either chores done or resting of my own. Not ideal.

I wouldn't get so hung up on this if not for how badly she still needs that nap. Some kids don't need a nap by this point. Great. I support that. But this kid... she is tired enough it's starting to hurt to see her. And when she's tired she's more easily frustrated. She has more tempers. She has a lower tolerance on how much outside stimulation she can handle before needing that hard swaddle and serious quiet time trying to beat her mommy up. Incidentally, you haven't been kicked until you've had a toddler kicking and punching a recent c-section incision. It's.... unique. Thank God for the nice doctor who gave me that beautiful bottle of percocet when I left the hospital. I use it frequently, still, on those nights after such episodes.

But today everything seemed to go okay. I'm still stressing about other things, nasty money-type things, that I can't control. I just don't have that type of cash laying around. If I did I wouldn't have those stresses. I'd have other, equally annoying, stresses. In the meantime I'll try to concentrate on the successes. Not only those of naps but those of healthy preemies doing well. Baby fat starting to appear. Children tolerating their feeds and gaining weight and coming closer to a dischargable state. It will be very nice to see my babies both home.

And I think I have problems sleeping now? At least this week the not-sleeping is not because I have to deal with wailing and refluxing and pooping children. I may be cranky and awake but I'm doing so in a quiet environment.

I'm getting even more frustrated with the big G. Google. They took away my page rank, as fast as they had given it. And what does that prove? Why should they be the standard when they don't disclose how page rank is given, taken, or anything about their adsense problem. I think by now most people know that Adsense will ban your account without ever giving you a reason or proof of misdoing. Any request for reconsideration to either program insists that you check a box saying that you know the ban was all your own fault. Well, what if it wasn't?

Earthfrisk is coming on the scene. It's a fast and simple way to combine all the major search engines and issue ranks given by your peers on the Net. You can download a customizeable search bar that's compatible with IE and Firefox. Make it work for you. Search Engine does not need to take you to three or four different versions of the same results. Search all the major engines at once and save time! The meta-future is dawning with a new way to do things.

It's Thursday. It is, right? My days and numbers are getting so screwed up this month. On the other hand I look at how much has happened in the past 30 days. Thanksgiving. Christmas. A new baby. Pumping as much as I can stand it. Insomnia. Getting back up to speed on preemie issues, tailored to this season and area. Toddler getting ready to transition to the next educational step through the next several months.

I guess I can cut myself some slack on this.

So the new pumping regimen. I've talked about it already, yes? In the first two days of this slightly different style and timing I've gone back up to half an ounce combined. And I've got a lot of hope that just maybe if I can keep going with it and the hydration required and all that fenugreek I can bump it slowly even higher than that. I hope so. Robbie just went to 15ml a feeding. Yikes! That's half an ounce.

And it's almost the weekend again. I'm so ready for this.

Why am I awake at this horrible hour in the middle of the night? It can't possibly be because it's Christmas, and I have the ability to sleep and snuggle up in the night next to my Boy and know that I don't have to wake up before dawn tomorrow in order to ferry him to work. Well, maybe that's part of it. I can't sleep, anyway, so I might as well sit up and pump out more drips and drops of milk for my Robbie.

He's two pounds now. Two pounds for Christmas. I thought it might happen, but that was positive pushing in my brain. I never fully believed I would see it. We went up to see him and there's just enough chub on his body now that I don't see every breath rushing through his lungs. The internal workings of his body are more of a mystery now. Isn't that something? He begins to look like a Real Live Boy and less of a hairless spider monkey covered in very fine thin fur.

Incredible to stop and think that very soon -sooner than I expect or believe will happen- he'll be coming home. By "soon" I mean that it may be another month or so. Roughly his due date, but we won't know for sure until it happens. One day my phone will ring and the doctor will say that it's time to bring my baby home, and then my world will turn upside down one more time.

Last time I likened it to being in labor mentally. I was more nervous walking into the hospital than I had ever been in my life. I shook, my hands sweated, and I couldn't think beyond one moment to the next. We held the car seat between us. And a diaper bag. I don't even remember what was in it. So clueless, despite everything I thought I knew.

This time will likely be the same. In another year I'll blog about how innocently naive I was tonight. How I thought I knew what I would face, the challenges, the sleepless nights, the endless slogging through learning a new preemie who must be held Just So for feedings, upright or sideways backwards for so many minutes after feeding, how he sleeps best, how to keep socks on his feet... I'll despair about ever sleeping at night with my Boy in the same bed, because it'll seem as though one or the other of us is always awake with this child.

And I will feel so incredibly blessed to be allowed to have this miracle in my life.

Yes, there really was a baby in those blankets! But the blanket bundle was about twice the size of the baby. His head is about the size of a medium lime, and he was flirting with me the whole time I was holding him. So cute! I'm thrilled that I did, indeed, get to hold him before Christmas. This might be the best present I've ever gotten, possibly only tying in place for "best" with the Christmas eve that my Boy came home from a two month stint in Meridian, MS. That was the time I found out I was pregnant with the Toddler two weeks after he left. It was a wonderful moment for us, but then we got worried because nothing really seemed to go right, and he couldn't wait to come home and be with me/us... last set of orders cut before the command there broke for the holidays. He was diverted and rebooked and what with one thing and another he was on one plane or another for 24 hours until finally arriving at SD. I didn't care. I was just so happy to see him at last.

And here we are, Christmas Eve day. I hope it's a merry one for all of you, no matter where you are or what beliefs you ascribe to. Big Hugs.

Yesterday I held my baby for the first time. His head is so small. His body is so small. I have to hold his neck completely straight to keep the airway clear.

note to self. do not let keyboard ever get wet again. it makes the 'v' key stick and make a mess.

I always hated the thought of planning my wedding. Even though we were doing the legal stuff first, we had counted on doing the "church thing " later on. If you've been reading this blog, you know that life didn't work out quite that way for us. There were babies. Preemies. My perpetually cold feet to deal with. But the day will come again that I'll have to sit down and plan as wedding back east, without the benefit of living there. It makes me shiver. On one hand I want to do it; get to be a bride in a white sparkly dress- even though my dress will now be something other than white. On the other hand how do I wade through all the things I'll have to do? There's the location. The food. Alcohol? Lodging for out of town guests who will be traveling there? Lodging for us? And childcare... can't forget that now. In fact, that may be more Of a consideration now than ever before. Philadelphia Weddings are a snap when you have an online option for your planning needs. If you're wary of dealing with crowds of vendors all in your face, there's the convenience of doing it online. If you're too far away to visit a wedding show, there's the convenience of making the arrangements on your own time and schedule instead of with twenty vendors distracting you.

I grew up in the Philadelphia area. I know how hard it can be if you're looking at either a low key wedding or an Event worthy of the Main Line. Budgets are important. If I could do this all for little money and the most convenience, this is where I'd start. Longwood Gardens? Sign me up, when the gardens are budding and if you could arrange for the holiday lights to stay up a little longer? That's just fine with me. This site is as good place for me to start. If I change my mind as to having this party on the east coast, they cover plenty of other big areas

Our Robbie is now 1 and 12. That's 805gm for those of you in a metric world. 1 pound, 12 oz. When speaking to someone else, especially in the world where you're always referring to these weights, we tend to drop the pound/ounce labels. It's x and y, not pounds and y ounces. Convenient.

Is that how people developed text-speak? Because they just found that labels so darn convenient? And am I now feeding into the same mindset that makes my teeth clench up every time I'm confronted with a license plate saying I luv u2? Maybe I should administer a self-punishment right now and go read my grammar references. Eesh.

Congrats go out to my cousin's family, as they welcome their new son today! They haven't updated the site just yet, but I've seen the pictures and he's a cute one.

Five days until Christmas. Are you panicking yet? I was... but then I realized that I've got better things to do with that energy. The past couple of days have not been good ones for me; overwhelmed, overstressed, exhausted, unable to let go of anything at all. It's a wonder that my Boy hasn't demanded a six-pack and some quiet hiding time alone with his laptop and computer games off in the closet. Some closet. Somewhere. Far away from the insane one. I've gone from hopeful to a nearly weeping wreck of a woman about fifty times in just the last twenty four hours. This morning he comes into the bedroom as I was getting dressed and just stood quietly at the end of the bed with a loving and patient and determinedly neutral pleasant Look as he asked how I was feeling so far.

Do I appreciate this? Yes. Do I fully comprehend that he's doing the best he knows how to do, based on his extensive knowledge of me and my ways? Yes. Have I been batshit crazy by far this past week, and will it happen again and again in the next year or two? Oh hell yes.

Tonight I'm going to get him some beer on my way to pick him up from work. He's completely earned it, and I know that this situation with Robbie is getting to him too. The difference is that while I'm staring at my breasts willing them to produce milk he's watching me go from banshee to reasonable and back again while staring at my breasts willing them to produce milk, and he's waiting patiently for his wife to re-emerge from this she-demon. It's just the getting there that sucks. The journey's goal is worth it.

One of the best experiences I ever had with a computer was the day I first watched a dvd on the laptop. At last I had the power to really have a personal viewing experience! Customized to me! A screen in my lap, in bed, with my needlework on the keyboard and the picture just a half-glance away from where my eyes needed to be. It was incredible. This is why high on my priority list is to get me a new laptop. Sometime. Maybe next year, late, after the Robbie-expenses are shaken out of the budget and incorporated into regular rotation instead of the "emergency, unexpected" category.

It's hard to know exactly what your AV needs are going to be for a personal use. If, like me, you spend most of your life on the Net, you know that your every day habits can be easily influenced if you've come across the right motivation. If your favorite website adds a new feature that uses new audio visual equipment and installations, you're so much more likely to rush to pick it up. Learn the bells and whistles. Before you know it that new feature is familiar and you seek out other places to use those applications. It doesn't have to mean spending tons of money in the workplace, if you're primarily using these things at home. On the flip side, if you do use a lot of this sort of stuff in the workplace, you need to stay competitive. Advertising uses a ton. IT needs to know how to make it work and fix it when idiots like me mess around with it and "break" the application. Eventually as the program becomes more mainstream most of us will learn how to use it and either need training on such things or be sought out to train others. There's no way quite like having to teach someone else how to use a product to make you very familiar with it in record time.

My little boy is now 1 lb 11 oz. If this keeps up he might just double his birth weight by the time he's a month old. Isn't that the coolest?

The Toddler, by comparison, took about 6 weeks to double her birth weight. Of course, she was a bigger baby. Just when did 2lb, 10oz become a big baby? About the second that I fully comprehended that I had delivered a 1 pounder.

We're off to a positive start this morning. Mommy slept twelve hours. Toddler slept 14 hours. Newborn remains stable in the NICU, demanding his pretty nurses bring him breakfast in the isolette... Daddy is tired, putting in another 12 hour day. He's got that sucky schedule all this week but I'm crossing my fingers that nothing happens of an emergency nature over the holiday. We all need that little break.

Once upon a time when I still had all my teeth, they were VERY sensitive. So sensitive, in fact, that I had to give up chocolate, candy, ice cream, anything hot or cold, and was down to eating mostly soft, warmish, mushy foods. This is what people used to live with when they had poor dental care. I didn't even have that excuse. It was horrible. Embarassing. I was left out when there were family gatherings and lovely yummy food that I had to pass by or eat horribly carefully and slowly in order to avoid major dental pain. I don't mind certain amounts of pain. I really don't. But dental pain -yeesh. That's a biggie.

There are now a ton of products for sensitive teeth. Some of them whiten, some of them promise to taste better, some sing and dance for you while magically taking out the trash, walking the dog, and toilet-training your children. (Where could I get me that one? I wish!) Biotene is different from the majority of products out there because it contains an enzyme that works to make the causes of dry mouth go away, it helps your gums heal from bleeding and works to counter the sensitivity issues that are causing the pain in the first place. Now, they're not claiming that this product is going to instantly cure you, but it certainly makes the pain less over time while tasting good. What other sensitive toothpaste can say all that?

This was my Robbie last week.



This is my Robbie yesterday. As you can see, the difference from week to week is still pretty slight but I will point out the major change: no vent tubes. In other words, he's breathing under his own power right now. Of course he's nowhere near able to deal with room air; he's on an O2 cannula. Still. I think this is one of the big developmental milestones of preemiehood.

Forget about the normal babybook items. Baby's first smile, first gas, the day the umbilical cord fell off. We are counting such milestones as baby's first day off the vent. Baby's first tube feeding. Baby's first experience trying to suck on a preemie-sized soothie-pacifier. Baby's first time throwing a tantrum inside the isolette and pulling out his leads. Baby's first heart surgery.

Strangely enough I still take all those things as true parental-pride-worthy accomplishments. If I think about them in the context of what the regular baby books tell me, I wonder what planet they've come from, because in our universe those "first" steps aren't going to happen for many months yet to come. They will come, I have every confidence in that. They will arrive here unheralded by balloons or marching bands. It will happen and be marked with quiet joy by a tired mother and father who recognize just how miraculous every sunrise is for this child who started so small and who fought so hard to learn how to breathe and eat and keep his heart beating.

My week just got shot to hell. I kept thinking, I need to update the blog. Then stuff happened. Then I'd think, I need to update the blog. Then more stuff happened. Rinse and repeat this for most of the week and now we come to the first afternoon I've had to myself with the computer and the Toddler is SUPPOSED to be sleeping but the sounds coming through the wall tell me that she's not. Oh well.

She had an enormous bit of fun this morning at the hanger where Daddy works. The kids' christmas party was held this morning. The hanger was clean and plane-free (for once). The heaters attached at the rafter level were running full blast and made it warm. There was bubble wrap taped down in long strips along the sides of the space for kids to run and stamp on. Somehow I saw more grownups "accidentally" having to cross the bubbles than I did kids. But we were early to the party, so maybe things picked up after we left.

Games and fun were in plentiful supply, as were cakes and cookies and cupcakes and popcorn. A giant moon bounce castle. A christmas tree and the necessary presents underneath it. Toddler ran this way and that way and around and around in circles until she fell and bloodied her nose. Then she didn't want to hold still at all for me to wipe it. She cuddled long enough to dry the tears, then she was off again. According to her eyes, she's tired. According to her? Not So. Me? Nap? You must be joking she lets me know without managing to use any words at all.

Tonight is the grownups christmas party and I'm allowed to go. That sounds wrong. It should read that it's harder than getting the Toddler to use her words consistently to get me willing to go to a party outside the house. Or most social functions. Especially when I'm depressed. But to this party I will go, and try to have a good time and wear my pleasant face. My mom will babysit. My Boy is going to be with me. There might be kissing and holding of hands.

We're wild, you know. Hand-holding in public and everything. Who knows? Anything can happen at an office party when it's held in a jet hanger.

For so many moms it goes smoothly. You have a normalish conception. A routine pregnancy that you think will never end. At the tail of it, a balloon and a baby are in your hands as you're wheeled out of the hospital to a waiting car. And then there are preemie mom who may have none of that, or some of it, before finding themselves in either a panicky delivery full of medical stuff or a less-rushed delivery full of medical stuff. A neonatologist is standing by, with a baby team, and you may not even know what they are except that your OB doesn't want to deliver without one. You're the mother, it is supposed to be your job to know this, but where do you belong now?

The recovery of life after that is a hard thing to find again. The pieces of your new parenthood without child. Visiting a NICU, learning the language, learning to love a little bundle of wires and tubing without any of the "normal" stuff. It's a chore. The books don't prepare you for this. The shows on tv don't begin to touch the reality of it when this is your baby and your delivery and your emotional pain. And your husband's too- he's so often forgotten in the concern and rush to ask "how's the mom doing". He's the other parent. He's the one who stood or sat by to watch the love of his life go through all this. What about his dreams and hopes for this delivery? What did he imagine in the days before hell broke loose around you both?

The Boy and I were fortunate. We had prepared for a preemie again. It wasn't a question of would he come early, it was a question of how early would he come. We had processed it a bit. That's how my voice doesn't shake when I talk about it. This is how I can function now. I'm dealing. Maybe not well, but I'm still dealing with it. And this is all part and parcel of preemie parenting for me. Suckful, it is. Hellacious, even. I'm exhausted today. Slept twelve hours last night and didn't get up to pump once, and I'm exhausted. Just plain worn out and exhausted. Will it get better? Soon. I trust, soon. The past two weeks have been a total blur. I don't remember half of the days in them. I drink plenty of water and read and love my Toddler. I try to put some of the pieces back together. Unlike the first time I was delivered of a preemie, I do not feel the need to replay every minute of the second delivery like a bad dream. I remember it vividly, yes, and it's all there for me to replay in my head if I need to. But the birthing part is a calmness in my memory; the Boy held my left hand and squeezed my fingertips. He looked me in the eye. We were there together and I was safely delivered of a son.

Just in time for Christmas.

Food banks are facing crisis this year. That's not news, but it should be. Why? Why do we suddenly hear about it now? Because more and more people are driven to these places to put food on the table at the end of the day? I think so. With bills going up, gas and electric and all the other utilities going up. Rent. Mortgages in crisis. And food becomes the last concern on our plates sometimes even though it may need to start coming first.

We've been lucky. Money is never really enough for our expenses, but we've got food and milk. So far. Where will it be next year? Where will it be if my blogging income tapers off? I don't know. I do know that my car insurance rates are going down a smidgeon, which is good news because we can't afford to not have our car. Living in the middle of nowhere, driving to get anywhere, with two kids soon to have a round of never-ending doctors and specialists and intervention programs and schooling. The Boy needs to get to work. I need to escape these baby blues before I have to add myself back into that train of doctors. Did I think it was hard to get therapy with one baby? How about two? And that second one will be every bit as small and fragile as the Toddler was when she first came out of the NICU.

I'm counting blessings. Really, I am counting them. But those baby blues are chasing me around the house last night and this morning until I think I'll lose my mind. Obsessing about milk supply. About production. About whether or not Robbie will have long term damage from being on the vent so long. About wanting him weaned off it already so that I can hold him next time I'm there. Maybe. Because I want to hold my itty bitty boy. I want to see his face, his whole face, for the very first time. Even if I still can't touch him, I want to see his face.

My mom says that I owe her spa time for all the stress and gray hair I've given her over the years. I will owe my husband the same before long. Whenever we're at the mall he starts coveting a ride in one of the massaging chairs. Those chairs look so nice, and they work at those hard to reach muscle groups trying to relax them and unknot tricky places in your back that you never quite trust other people to get at correctly. Now there's a chair even better suited for getting the tension out of your life. Massage Chairs certified by American College of Chiropractic Orthopedists use a quad roller design to relieve stress and tension. Hmmm.. They even come with a heat feature, and a foot massage option. How nice would that be to look forward to at the end of a long day? whether you're chasing kids or papers around an office, get the downtime and pampering you deserve with one of these.

My Robbie continues to thrive. He's gaining weight rapidly, and on the feeding protocol where he's at this means that his feeds have to be increased daily. Every shift, it seems, they're increasing them a little bit.

Of course he's still drinking little itty bits. This morning they told me that he's up to 3.5ml per feed. That's not a lot. Half a teaspoon. But hey- who am I to quarrel with weight gain and happy baby? He's really doing well on breastmilk. Despite my inner fears that the lack of quantity on my part will lead to some deficit in the quality of the milk he's drinking. Who knows? I don't know. What I know is that my baby boy came early and now he's thriving well in his warm nest despite me not being there. I can concentrate on the blessing that knowledge is and not the creeping depression that leads to dark moments.

stupid, stupid, useless me. Can't do anything right. Can't produce more milk for Robbie. Why the hell do I have these breasts if they're not going to nurture my offspring? Why did I have the gall to have another preemie anyway when the breasts don't work and I don't know how to make them work?

I miss my Robbie. I haven't been up to see him, and I know I said that this weekend only thing was going to work out just fine, and I know that it's not economically feasible to just run up there. I was lying to myself I think. I miss him. I still haven't really "bonded" as such. I feel such a different connection with him already than I did with the Toddler. More a sense of "he's mine". Is this because I am a mother already? Is this because I'm worried about his weight and size and prematurity despite knowing he's got the best possible start for someone born this early?

Is it that he's my baby and I still haven't heard him make a sound a week and a half after he's been born? I want to hold him and I can't. I want to touch him through the portholes of his isolette and I can't. I want to do so much for him and with him, and at the same time I want to throw myself fully into playing and resuming a "normal" life with the Toddler, and that I can do within certain physical limits... I'm torn.

If it was me and the Toddler here, and I was allowed to drive myself, I'd be up at the NICU this morning. Though I don't know who would watch the Toddler since she's not allowed past the waiting room area.

Is this the beginning of baby blues or the beginning of it's nasty depressive cousin or am I just on the rollercoaster of NICU motherhood again?

I'm running around right now with washclothes tucked into my bra.

No, I haven't lost what was left of my mind. I just don't want to fork over any money for nursing pads right now. I probably should. It would help prevent leakage from my growing mammary glands. It would soak up the letdown I'm getting from one side while pumping the other. But... I don't want to spend the money. Besides, pioneer women survived this many times before the commercial baby industry came out with this concept.

What I'm working at this week is slowly increasing supply. I feel so proud when I get another half ounce, combined. The reason for my pride is that there's nobody around me to compare that to. I don't know what normal women are expressing at this point. Then again, when have I ever been accused of being normal? I prove my point. In other news, I'm starting to wonder how soon I can reasonably steal my car keys back and start taking over the early morning to-work run with the Boy. I miss my morning travel time. I seriously miss it. That was like, our private little date time together. Now what do we have? The two minutes before closing eyes at night in the big bed? A brief kiss in the morning before he leaves? Not enough to me.

I know I need to rest more. I can rest when the sun rises. I want to see my Boy right now. I want to do that running. I want to drive my car.

Is it not amazing what modern surgery can do? Besides the realm of lifesaving procedures, new techniques in the elective field can dramatically improve your quality of life without permanent internal changes. The Lapband procedure is one of the newer techniques for weight loss surgery tampa. It involves the surgeon going in through tiny incisions and placing a small band around the stomach. This restricts the stomach's capacity for food and also lengthens the digestion process to help you feel fuller faster and longer. Sometimes obesity issues arise from problems that can't be solved with a good diet and exercise. There could be a medical component, or a hormonal one that plays into the rest of it. Some people seem to be hardwired for extra pounds early in life and nothing they do can truly solve it. For these people this is one solution that can get them back on the road to a healthy weight.

Many moons ago I called the Toddler by another name. Her NICU name was the Borgmonkey, because she came into this world looking like a wrinkled spider monkey with a fur problem. (She got cuter, obviously!) She was also attached to so many wires and leads and tubing that she was a Borg. This is a testament to the smartassedness of her parents more than anything else.

When Robbie was born the Boy proudly told me that he was purple. After the morphine kicked in we had further discussion, and decided that this meant Robbie should be referred to as a smurf. As we sat by his isolette this past weekend preparing for the surgery it was further decided that he is now Robosmurf. My brief suggestion of The Bionic Smurf was turned down.

I foresee many future tales of the Robosmurf and his partner-in-crime. Thank you for all the contributions to our Goldfish Cracker Funds; every drop in the bucket helps us out in the next couple of months as we're getting up to the NICU to see Robbie and closer to the date when I've got both of my babies home and in my arms.

My Robbie

Yesterday I went out to what was supposed to be my mother's tea-party for her birthday. Turns out it was a surprise baby shower. This is a first for her- she managed to organize this whole thing, starting five weeks ago, to be a surprise. Without spilling the beans to me. And I managed to not find out about it. Me and my nosiness- it's made any form of surprise a virtual impossibility since I turned two. A good time was had by all. Wonderful. Amazing.

What timing! What amazing timing for the birth, given the pre-arranged party scheduling, and that I was on my feet enough to really enjoy it. I was so stunned that it had taken me by surprise that I came home in a warm fog. Much like I had sat through the whole event.

Overstock is having a christmas promotion; register for the All I want for Christmas Giveaway and win a prize of your choice plus prizes for five friends. Christmas this year is going to be tight for a lot of people. Despite the great sales and deals offered by many retailers, the general public is feeling the tight wallets pinch as gas and heating prices go up. Inflation, the economy, the anticipation of rising mortgage rates with the new year. Around here I can tell that pinch will be harder felt than in many other areas of the country.

I'm going to register for this contest on the chance that just maybe I'll win. I want to sign up for the dream gifts; the stuff that I'd just love to have here for my kids and family to make our lives that much easier in the coming months. Like a really big swingset. Or a nursery suite for Robbie. Or a big couch that will fit all four of us comfortably. I think that on the whole, I'd go with the couch. A nice, big, comfy couch with many pillows and a reclining option. Where the kids can climb on their parents, where my two babies can snuggle up to me in the afternoons when they're definitely not tired but need a nap anyway. Is there a better way to nap?

The PDA is fixed. The surgeon went in and made a small incision under my boy's left shoulderblade and slipped a titanium clip around the right place, and now Robbie has a functioning heart that should fix the blood pressure problem and help him grow and thrive. It's amazing what can be done these days, with just a few things. Ultrasounds saved him from distress. Heated isolettes are keeping him warm while machines breathe for him and deliver warmed breastmilk to his stomach a few drops at a time. Other lines bring the raw nutrients to his blood directly. All this, twenty years ago, could it have happened? I want to say that yes it could. I don't really know.

Combined with the miracle of my newborn, the miracle of what is being done now to bring him home to me unscathed is enough to completely take my breath away. Is there anything more to life? Is there anything bigger than a newborn child that could fit in a loaf pan?

Emotions are starting to get the better of us here. Tempers are running high. I don't know where to begin to help my husband. He is keeping everything to himself again; trying to be strong. He's the support, he's the rock, and when will he let any of this out? How hard dare I push?

Have you been seeing the trailers for Sweeney Todd, a new movie from Tim Burton? I just visited the Confessional, where readers are asked to call or write in their own confessionals. Apparantly nothing is offlimits here. There's a badge you can put onto your website, letting your readers know that you've confessed. Of course the confessions are focused towards revenge acts- that's the theme of the movie, after all.

Based on the mother of all current horror film themes, this is about a barber who kills his customers and turns the bodies over to his lover who bakes them into pies. Revenge is one motive. Is greed another? Watch and find out. There's a lot of information on the web about the origins of this legend, about how he was caught, tried, and executed. If you visit Sweeney Todd on MySpace you'll find the confessional feature. Go ahead. You know you want to write your own confessional about what you did to that one person, that one time, when they were mean to you back in middle school. Take this chance to get it off your chest and find out that you're not exactly the worst person out there for doing things like that. You can even visit the official Sweeney Todd movie site for more about the latest adaptation of the story, which is being offered up with Burton's usual flair for making the abnormal seem extraordinary. The cast, from what I can see, only enhances the skill of the filmmaker.

When my baby girl was born she had a small opening in one of the valves in her heart. It hadn't finished closing, but it did within a few days of her birth. Robbie was born with the same thing. Normally they close just fine and there are no problems; even with preemies. Sometimes they do not.

Tomorrow morning my little boy is going to have surgery to fix the hole in his heart. I do not know what to think; my brain is fuzzy with the morning's events. I thought everything was fine and I was coping, and then I heard this news. While I know it's routine, while I know that everything will likely go just fine, I want to close my eyes and let the rest of the world go on without my knowledge for a few hours. I need to regroup my brain and get some rest before I can cope with this knowledge.

Today is my mother's birthday and all the things I wanted to do to make it a happy one for her are now so far from my brain that I don't remember half of them. She'll forgive me. I don't know if I'll forgive myself later on.

If I didn't know better, I'd have thought that the gift basket the Boy brought home from his office yesterday was from Delightful Gifts. It was just the sort of thing I've seen on their website. If you're looking for a unique gift, why not a basket? It's multiple items, each worthy of being a gift in and of itself. And the container it comes in is often as neat as the collection inside. We couldn't be happier with what we got. I was browsing this website throughout this past year for various stuff; while I never got around to ordering anything off it I was always taken with how many types of baskets they offered. This is a great resource to have on tap if you're living away from the people you'd normally gift for special occasions- why spend time shopping, wrapping, and packing? Then paying to drive to the post office, wait in line, and mail the package, when you can click a few times and have it done while sitting in a comfy chair wearing your fuzzy bunny slippers?

That's what I thought. I sure wouldn't do that if I had another option. Doubly so this week. And so with that argument I wanted to also bring up a few other points of interest before moving on to the article below. Firstly, online shopping for presents this season is on the upswing. Secondly, why leave the house when you don't have to, especially when so many options include free shipping? Thirdly, is there an easier way to send a thoughtful gift than selecting a specialty gift basket that takes into consideration the whole taste of the recipient? The basket we received was remarkable because it came packed inside of the fisher price aquarium tub. There was a pack of preemie diapers in addition to the newborn size that frequently is the size of choice in these things- and preemie diapers are wonderful when dealing with an actual preemie. They may look small initially, but when you then view them on a preemie that's only 3 or 4 pounds, they seem huge.


DelightfulDeliveries.com Recognized as Hot 100 Retail Website

Internet Retailer Ranks Website Among Best in Nation for 2008

NEW YORK--(BUSINESS WIRE)--DelightfulDeliveries.com, the premiere Internet Gift Retailer and America’s #1 Gift Basket Website, today announced it has been named one of The Hot 100 Retail Websites for 2008 by leading industry magazine, Internet Retailer. The Hot 100 list represents the best of what retailers are doing online, highlighting innovation and setting the standards in online for what the rest of the industry should be doing.

DelightfulDeliveries.com, a privately-held company, with one of the largest and most unique selections of gourmet gifts, ranked alongside larger sites such as Dell, Nike and Amazon.com, by building its award-winning site on selection, functionality, speed and the complete customer experience. A recent re-design has improved the customer’s shopping experience to make holiday gift-giving easy and enjoyable, including rating and reviews, behavioral recommendations and free shipping offers.

“We are extremely honored to be recognized as a pacesetter in online retailing,” said Eric Lituchy, Founder and CEO of DelightfulDeliveries.com. “We pride ourselves on using the latest technology to make gift-giving fun and easy. Being named among the best in the nation validates we are succeeding in our efforts to deliver the best possible customer experience.”

In addition to making Internet Retailer’s The Hot 100 list for 2008, DelightfulDeliveries.com was recently recognized by Inc. Magazine as part of its Inc. 5000, which highlights the fastest growing private companies.

DelightfulDeliveries.com offers over 2000 unique and delicious gifts from America’s best brands to the finest boutique shops. Consumers can easily shop the site by gift or food category, occasion, type and best-seller. Corporate gift-givers can choose from hundreds of customized gourmet treats.

For additional information, and to see a complete selection of gifts available, visit www.DelightfulDeliveries.com.

About Delightful Deliveries

DelightfulDeliveries.com is an award-winning website that began in 1998 and quickly established itself as one of the premier Internet gift retailers. Its mission is to bring great products to gift-givers, while providing world-class service. The company selects its offerings from a broad variety of fine food gift products for consumers and for corporate gifts, and gathers them in one place to make the selection process quick and simple.

Back in the blogging saddle! Yippee! It's been a wonderful night here at the old homestead. The Toddler slept well. My two moms have settled in and slept well. The Boy slept well. I even managed to sleep well after the painkillers kicked in. Big surprise, I may have overdone things just a bit yesterday. Then I had a coughing fit, and any one who's ever had a c-section can tell you that it hurts.

Today we're hoping to get up to the NICU to see Robbie. I don't know if I'm anxious or nervous or what. This is new, this is not new, this is new. I am a preemie mom again. I pump milk, therefore I am. I had a baby and saw him whisked away in an isolette with a transport team to a new home in intensive care, and I will not get to be his mother for several months. In the meantime I've got the Toddler and that is more encouraging than last time when I had no child at all to remind me that I was now a mom.

It all makes sense, somewhere. In the meantime my thoughts are scrambled and my feelings a little jumbled. But not, thank God, bruised. The depression remains at bay and I'm still cautiously optimistic about the whole prospect of what today holds for us.

Is there someone on your list who is yearning for a new set of binoculars? An avid watcher of the night skies? Fashion conscious teenager who wants the latest in Ray Ban? Look no further than OpticsPlanet for your gifts. Free ground shipping on orders over $29.95, and the Best sellers are even listed for you so that you don't have to guess. This site might look a little crowded upon first glance, but I found the link organization fairly easily to navigate. Gift guides cover everything from what to get the ladies in your life to Guy Gadgets and father's day presents. Stocking Stuffers! They have stocking stuffers as well; that's good for me because I always find myself staring at the orange in the bottom of the stocking and wondering how on earth to fill it up.